


Modern Day Courtship Rituals

by gemini_cole



Series: Modern Day Courtship Rituals [1]
Category: Henry Cavill - Fandom, british actors
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 09:42:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15482970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gemini_cole/pseuds/gemini_cole
Summary: Henry Cavill is a zookeeper at Smithfield Zoo, one day he meets Chloe Donovan and her two children and sparks fly.





	Modern Day Courtship Rituals

Modern Day Courtship Rituals

 

            It was the backpack that caught his attention first. Red and black, emblazoned with a picture of Jack Sparrow, it landed with a soft thud as it sailed over the chain-link fence. Lovingly duct-taped with black along the bottom, and a swath of red duct tape up one side, the bag had clearly seen better days.

            Henry had grown used to this kind of thing during his time here at Smithfield Zoo.  Somehow or another, things seemed to find their way over the fence. Shoes, baby blankets, pacifiers galore, and the occasional stuffed animal. But nothing prepared him for the little boy that suddenly tumbled over the fence into Harold’s enclosure, landing in a heap next to Harold’s water feature. Harold, being a 95-year-old Galapagos Tortoise, appeared to take no notice at all of his visitor. Sandy-haired, wearing grey cargo shorts and a Captain America t-shirt, the boy scrambled to his feet, and looked around while messily shoving his glasses into place. Seemingly assured that there were no witnesses to this escapade, Henry watched as the boy crept forward. Grabbing the aforementioned bag, he began tiptoeing towards Harold. Stopping a few feet away, he dropped his bag and unzipped it, pulling out a bag of marshmallows. As he struggled to open the bag, Henry quietly opened the door to the habitat. Not wanting to scare the boy, Henry cleared his throat and whispered. “Hi there, what’s your name?”

            To his credit, the little boy nearly jumped out of his skin, and looked up. And up some more. From his perspective, Henry probably looked 10 feet tall and just as imposing. Seeing the look of fear flicker across his face, Henry immediately crouched, bringing himself to the boy’s level.  Holding out his hand, he tried again, whispering, “My name is Henry, what’s yours?”

            The little boy put his hand in Henry’s and shook carefully, his big blue eyes taking him in. He seemed to decide Henry was trustworthy enough, as he finally replied, “I’m Max.” He began once again to struggle with the bag of marshmallows as Henry watched.

            “What are the marshmallows for, Max?”

            Max looked over at Harold, then at Henry as if were completely obvious.  Announcing proudly, “I brought Harold a treat,” he finally succeeded in opening the bag, marshmallows flying everywhere.  Before Harold could decide to investigate, Henry scrambled to collect all the wayward marshmallows. As he did, Max crept forward, inching towards Harold with a fistful of the pastel puffs, whispering “Hey, buddy. Here’s a treat, pal.”

            Just before Harold could creep forward and snatch one up, Henry closed his fist around Max’s outstretched hand, and pulled him upwards to a standing position. Smiling kindly, but firmly, Henry replied, “That’s not a great idea, Max.”

            Max frowned up at him, marshmallows clenched in his fists. “Why not?”

            Henry kneeled once again. As he began gently pulling the marshmallows from Max’s sticky hands, he replied, “Harold can’t have these treats, Max. He’ll get sick.”

            Max’s frown deepened adorably, little wrinkles appearing on his forehead as he took in this new information. Finally he replied, “but Mama says treats are ok every once in a while, like on a special day. So can’t Harold have a treat today?”

            Henry smiled.  Max’s logic wasn’t wrong, even if the execution was more than a little flawed. He stood again, replying, “Your mama is absolutely right, Max. Treats are ok every once in a while. But what would be a treat for you or me could still make Harold sick. Would you like to help me get a treat for Harold?”

            Max nodded vigorously, a smile lighting up his face. He scrambled to his feet, taking three steps to every one of Henry’s, as they walked through the door to the “off stage” area between the zoo habitats. Max watched with wide eyes as Henry strode over to a refrigerator, opened the door, and took out some grapes. Usually these would be used as part of the grizzly bear’s daily meal, but Henry didn’t think they would miss a handful. Closing the door, he turned to the large sink, and turned the handles. As the water warmed up, Henry rinsed off the grapes and put them in a cup. Then he gestured for Max to come closer. Hoisting him up, he squirted some soap onto Max’s hands, then his own. Henry began vigorously lathering his hands, and Max, watching carefully, attempted to do the same. After rinsing both their hands, Henry grabbed a wad of paper towels and handed them to Max. After he was satisfied that no marshmallow residue remained, Henry grabbed the cup with the grapes, and motioned for Max to follow him.

            Henry came to a stop a couple feet away from Harold. Crouching down, he plucked a grape from the cup and held it his outstretched palm. Slowly Harold took a halting step forward, stretching out his neck as he snatched the grape from Henry’s palm, swallowing it whole. Turning to Max, he said quietly, “just like that, ok, Max? Let the grape lay in the palm of your hand so Harold can eat it without worrying about your fingers getting in the way, okay?”

            As Henry watched, Max took a grape from the cup. His little hand trembled slightly as he held it out, offering the “treat” to Harold. As Harold took the treat, Max gasped, whispering in awe, “he’s eating it! He’s eating my treat! Hi Harold!”

            Henry smiled and handed Max another grape. Moments like this were part of the reason were why he did what he did. Glancing at his watch, he realized that it had been nearly 20 minutes since Max had tumbled into the enclosure. Not wanting to alarm him, Henry asked casually, “So, Max. Where are your mom and dad? Are they here with you today?”

            Max turned his big eyes towards Henry. Pushing his glasses up his nose again, he replied, “My daddy’s a pirate. Momma’s with Bella at the birds.”

            Glossing over his confusion over the first part of his response, he replied, “But isn’t your mommy looking for you? She must be worried, huh? Maybe we should go find her, what do you think?”

            Shrugging non-committedly, Max replied, “Birds are too squawky, I don’t like them. Can’t we finish feeding Harold first?”

            Before he could answer, a commanding voice pierced the relative quiet of the tortoise habitat, shouting “Max Jefferson LaPointe! Get over here this _instant_!”

            Max scrambled, whispering, “Uh-oh, gotta go. Bye, Harold!” With that, he took off like a shot, running back to the fence he initially climbed over.

            Henry stood and turned around, intent on diffusing the situation with a clearly angry mom. The easy apology he was formulating died on his lips as he came face to face with the most stunning, and probably the most angry-looking women he’d ever had the pleasure of coming across.

            Max’s mom had long, wavy russet hair, pulled back into a low ponytail, small tendrils curling around her face and along her neck, and it was easy to see even from this distance where Max got his blue eyes, though currently, where Max’s eyes were clear, cornflower blue, his mother’s were darker, stormy like the sea before a storm. Standing next to her was a little girl who was so identical to her in looks; she could be a twin, right down to the angry look on her face. Henry guessed her to be about eight or nine.

            With her hands planted on her hips, she watched as Max climbed back over the fence and landed on his feet, where she proceeded to grab him by the shoulders, shaking him even as she pulled him in for a fierce hug.

            “What were you thinking, Max? You scared me! I know you know better than to wander off on your own like that!”

            Max sniffled, on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry, Momma. I wanted to give Harold a treat. Henry said it was ok!” He pointed to Henry, who sighed. He’d never been thrown under the bus by a five year old before. It was even less fun than when done by an age-appropriate counterpart. Taking that as his cue to interject, he grabbed Max’s backpack, which still lay in the middle of the tortoise enclosure. Walking over to the fence, he plastered what he hoped was his most charming smile on his face as he reached over the fence, handing Max his backpack.  Turning slightly to his right, he stuck his hand out and said, “Hello, I’m Henry, I’m one of the zookeepers here at Smithfield Zoo, and you are?”

            She glared witheringly at him, refusing to shake his hand, until, properly chastised, Henry tucked his hand back in his pocket.

            She took a deep breath and blew it out again before beginning, “What were you thinking? Did you even bother calling in a blue jay call?”  A blue jay call was the zoo definition of a missing child report. “ I want to speak to your supervisor. How do I know he was safe with you?” Turning to Max, she bent down, asking, “Baby, are you okay?”

            Max nodded enthusiastically. “Henry taught me about Harold’s treats, Mama. He let me give him grapes, ‘cause the treat I brought would’ve made him sick.”

            Henry tried again to interject, and smooth over the situation. “Normally, I would have called in the blue jay report, but I saw it as a teachable moment. I’m very sorry that you were upset, Mrs. LaPointe but…”

            “It’s Ms. Donovan. Chloe Donovan.  And don’t you dare try to calm me! This was my son, and you had a duty to follow the rules. I’ll be speaking to your supervisor. Clearly we need to find a new zoo to spend our time in.” With that, she took Max by the hand and began to walk away, the protestations of both her children melting into the surrounding sounds of the zoo. As Henry watched, Max turned and waved sadly at him before they rounded a corner and vanished from sight.

           


End file.
